Hothead (Irresistible 4)

“I was on my way to lunch at Louisa’s, but apparently it’s closed for renovation,” I laughed at myself as Hillary’s bright eyes lit up further.

“Omigod, perfect! Come to my restaurant then! You’ll have tons of privacy ‘cause we’re technically not open yet, obviously, but we’re doing a menu tasting to train staff today, so you should totally come! I’m sure everyone would love to meet the mind behind the menu. And I really want to do something for you. Please.” She took both my hands in hers. “You’re being so incredibly brave about the breakup. You deserve to have something nice,” she said, giving my hands a squeeze just before her eyes flew up and behind me.

And… here we go. I knew that it was Drew who had just walked out even before I heard his annoyingly impatient question.

“Alright, woman. Where we going?”

I refrained from rolling my eyes, instead flashing Hillary my best smile.

“Hillary, um, this is my… this is Drew,” I said, chickening out of dropping the B word. Hillary, poised as she normally was, took a good three seconds to find her words.

“Drew. Drew Maddox,” she said for him as he extended his hand. There were visible stars in her eyes as she took it a broke into a grin. “Wow. I’m a huge fan,” she said before stammering. “I mean – technically, I’m not an Empires fan since I’m from Baltimore, but I’m certainly an admirer of your game. And your career, in general. You’re kind of a big deal,” she said, blushing as she laughed at herself.

Drew gave an easy chuckle then nodded at me.

“Thank you. Well, maybe you can tell my girlfriend that. She’s generally pretty unimpressed with me.”

I raised my eyebrows. Until now, Drew Maddox. I had to grin up at him, giving a little wiggle of the brows to commend him for so smoothly dropping the G word.

“Yes, well, Evie’s never been much of a sports fan, but I’m sure she’s much more impressed with you than she lets on,” Hillary laughed politely. “But anyway, hold the phone. I need to ask – how and when did you two even meet?” she asked, her voice a breathy mix of curiosity and excitement.

“Well, my friend Emmett has been dating Evie’s friend Aly for a year and change now, and Evie and I met…” Drew squinted at me as he pretended to think. “When was the first time we met, babe? This stuff is your department,” he grinned as he watched my face promptly fall with annoyance. Not only did his last sentence piss me off, he was suddenly forcing me to be the one to bullshit on my feet. Goddamn you, Drew, I willed him to hear my thoughts despite the sweet smile I flashed him.

“Umm…” I turned back to Hillary. “Actually, I’d seen Drew first at my restaurant in East Hampton. That was last year and I remember hiding behind a door and thinking wow, that’s… a whole lotta man,” I laughed, since that was actually true. Of course at the time, Drew didn’t see me because yes, I was hiding behind a door, and of course, he had only shown up at the restaurant to meddle with Aly and Emmett’s budding relationship. In the meanest way possible, too, but that was Drew. “Then I met him at one of Aly’s parties a few months ago. He was just being… a really cocky asshole and I was actually super annoyed with him. But I guess he wound up feeling really bad, because he ended up reaching out to me pretty much right after the whole Mike thing. I think Emmett mentioned to him that I was single and Drew,” I beamed up at him, “was just kind of pathetically desperate to see me again. I think to make up for what a dick he was the first time. So he begged and begged Aly for my number – for days, he did – and, well… here we are!” I finished brightly as Drew squinted.

“That’s… not exactly how it happened.”

“It is,” I shut him down as Hillary gave me a playful smack.

“Oh, Evie, don’t be smart – that’s romantic!” she giggled as Drew circled an arm around my waist and pulled me tight into his side.

“Yeah, babe. Don’t be smart.” I looked up to find those wicked green eyes glinting at me. He dropped his gaze to my lips and his voice to a murmur. “You know what I like to do to that mouth when you get smart.”

I swallowed hard, simply staring back at his look of mischief till Hillary broke the silence.

“Whew! Is it getting hot out here?” she teased, fanning herself. “Guys, I’m so sorry – I just realized I’ve been making my Lyft wait forever for me. I’m headed to the restaurant now. Tell me you’re coming?” she asked me. Since I was hesitant, she appealed to Drew with a grin. “I’m sure you need tons of calories to nourish that body,” she lilted. “And I’ll have my kitchen make you anything.”

“Sold,” Drew said as Hillary squealed with excitement and squeezed my hand.

“Don’t worry. Mike’s been dropping by for PR stuff but he definitely won’t be there today,” she said before letting herself eye Drew as he went ahead of us to the car. “Not that you’re even thinking about Mike anymore,” she giggled, grabbing my hand and squeezing it tight as she dragged me to the car.

Well. That much she had right.

Since the past couple of days, I’d definitely been thinking about my ex significantly less.

Merryweather was a beautifully bright, sunny restaurant located in the heart of Park Slope. Its main dining room was a creamy white color with white tables, wooden chairs and comfy booths topped with navy blue leather cushions. Prior to us walking in, the staff had been hanging around by the bar, huddled around an iPad to read a new press release about the restaurant.

It was actually one that Mike had put out, and it was about one of the dishes I designed, so oddly enough, it felt as though everyone were studying a keepsake of Mike and my famous teamwork. Great. I gulped, prepared to feel that dark spiral of emotion I fell into anytime I thought of the good I once had with Mike. Standing there, I waited and waited for it to hit.

But this time, it didn’t come.

“Team!” Hillary’s bell-like voice rang out. “This is my friend Evie Larsen who designed the majority of our menu, including our Truffled Lobster Pot Pie that all the blogs are talking about!” she gushed, gesturing toward me. But it was a lost cause. The whole staff was staring open-mouthed at Drew, and after an initial five seconds of dumbstruck silence, they ambushed him for pictures. “Guys! Hey, please – the man’s here to eat!” Hillary protested but I brushed it off.

“Oh, don’t worry. He loves it,” I said just as I caught Drew’s death look.

He hated this, I could tell, but I needed a breather from him. After filling my head with images of what he might do to my “smart mouth,” Drew had sat next to me in the back of the Lyft, casually massaging the back of my neck while fielding Hillary’s questions about everything from baseball to us to how he managed to see me on his tight baseball schedule.

“It’s tough. The only way to see her every day is if she moves in, but she keeps resisting,” he laughed with Hillary while I sat entirely too stunned to speak. “But I’ll get her to cave eventually,” he said, casually running his fingers up my neck and into my hair. My eyes went wide as he grabbed a handful and gave a firm tug. “I think she just likes to give me a hard time,” he smirked as I felt a thousand hot tingles shoot fast up my thighs.